


Touch

by sublime42



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Matt needs hugs, Panic, Panic Attacks, Self Medicating, anxiety attack, matt whump, mention of possible ptsd, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:15:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublime42/pseuds/sublime42
Summary: After all that happened with Midland Circle, Fisk and Bullseye, Matt has begun having panic attacks. Luckily Foggy is there for him.(I wrote this to make up for all the times Matt needed a hug in s3 and didn't get one).





	Touch

The nightmare woke Matt with a start. It was the same one he’d had many times before, but with a different ending. This time, instead of just Karen being dead, the bodies of his father, Foggy, Stick, Electra and Father Lantom surrounded him.

It was his fault. Their deaths were on him. Yes, Foggy and Karen were still alive, but it was only a matter of time before someone caught up with them. Could Matt _really_ protect them? The question haunted him constantly. Fisk had agreed to lay off of them for Vanessa's sake, but what if something happened to her? What might he do then?

Matt was still weak, nowhere near his optimum strength. Thoughts of the pain that came with his injuries flooded into his mind. The fear that he’d felt when the building collapsed and he realized that he was still alive. What if he never recovered completely? He’d be a target, just waiting for the right person to come along and take him and his loved ones out. He'd rather die than to live and watch his friends suffer. 

Matt’s heart rate sped up. It felt harder to breathe. Gasping for air, he reached for his phone on the nightstand.

He should do it. Do what Foggy told him to do in times like these - call him. 

“Even if it’s three in the morning,” Foggy had said. “I’ll come help.”

It seemed wrong to wake his friend. Foggy had been working a lot, he’d have to work in a few hours, too, and Matt calling him up would only make his day harder. 

Matt’s stomach started to hurt, burning into his chest. He was going to pass out if this didn’t stop soon.

With tears welling up in his eyes, he made the call.

00

Foggy answered the phone on the second ring. Calls at two am were rarely good things - he wondered if someone was hurt. When Matt’s name popped up on the caller ID, he felt his heart drop.

“Matt?” He asked, voice thick with sleep. He glanced over at Marci, who had opened an eye, realized he was on the phone, and had rolled back over.

“F-Fog,” Matt gasped out. “N-need help.”

“Okay. Okay,” Foggy forced himself to remain calm. He stood up, reaching the dresser for a pair of sweatpants. “Are you injured? Where are you?” 

“No. Home,” Matt answered, “Please come.”

“Alright, I’m heading over. Give me fifteen minutes,” Foggy said, before hanging up. He threw on the sweats and a hoodie before shaking Marci awake again.

“Go,” she told him. “I heard you. Be safe.”

Foggy nodded and leaned in to give her a kiss.

“See you soon,” he told her.

00

Foggy used his key to enter Matt’s apartment, worried about what he might find.

“Matt?” He called out, using his phone’s flashlight to see. “Buddy, where are you?”

There was no answer, so Foggy continued on. 

The sound of Matt panting heavily hit him as he approached the bedroom.

“Matt,” Foggy said, knocking on the door. “Matt, it’s me. I’m gonna come in.”

00

This had happened before, back in their college days. Something would set Matt off and he’d panic, hyperventilating and shaking until he made himself sick or blacked out. It took Foggy a while to figure out how to handle it. Talking didn’t seem to help much, but touch did.

After college, Matt had seemed a little better, but lately he’d been panicking again. Foggy thought that Matt probably had some form of PTSD, but Matt denied it entirely. At least he’d agreed to contact Foggy in instances such as this.

Matt was making high pitched gasping noises, his arms wrapped around his chest too tightly. Clearly, things were bad. He quickly moved to Matt’s side.

“Matt, I’m here.” He rested a hand on Matt’s back, “I’m gonna help you, okay?”

Matt said nothing, but nodded, continuing to gasp for air. Everything hurt. His muscles felt so tense, and his stomach still burned, and his heart was going too fast, and his head throbbed. He was going to die, he was sure of it. What a dumb way to go, too. 

He was too far gone to notice Foggy kicking off his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Matty, I’m going to sit behind you and hold you, okay?” Foggy explained. “I’ll help you scoot up a bit.”

Matt moved under Foggy’s prodding, making enough room for the redhead to sit behind him. Then two arms encircled him, and Foggy pulled him close.

“Come on,” Foggy whispered, “You’re okay. I’m here with you.” He wrapped his arms around Matt’s chest and stomach. “Lean back.”

Matt groaned but obliged, forcing himself to lean into Foggy’s chest. The feel of Foggy’s heartbeat against his back calmed him slightly, and it became a bit easier to breathe.

“There we go. Take a deep breath,” Foggy instructed. “We’ll do it together.” Matt felt Foggy’s chest expand as the man breathed in, and he did his best to follow suit.

“Count to three,” Foggy said, silently mouthing the numbers, “And breathe out.” 

Matt exhaled, feeling his heart start to slow.

“Again.”

The two men breathed in at the same time, held it and released. 

After a few more times, Matt no longer felt like he was in danger of fainting.

“Good job,” Foggy praised him. He had yet to let go of Matt. Experience had taught him that such attacks could last for hours, and Matt would need constant contact during that time.

There was silence as Matt continued the deep breathing, focusing on Foggy’s heartbeat and warmth as he did so.

“Now,” Foggy said, holding Matt a little tighter. “How do you feel? Be honest with me.”

“Like I’m gonna be sick,” Matt answered. “My head hurts. Everything hurts.”

Just speaking those words made Matt’s heart rate pick up again. Foggy gently reached under Matt’s shirt and began to rub his stomach. The motion was soothing and Matt couldn’t help but moan slightly.

“You’re okay. Everything’s okay,” Foggy reiterated. “I’m here with you. I won’t leave you.”

There was another silence as Foggy concentrated on trying to soothe his friend’s pain. He could feel the man tensing beneath his hand. Every now and then Matt’s heart rate would spike again, and Foggy could swear that he saw a tear fall from Matt’s face.

“I brought some things for you,” Foggy finally said, as Matt’s breathing seemed to even out. “I think we ought to try them again.”

“Pills,” Matt whispered. He didn’t really like the pills. They dulled his senses, made his head fuzzy, but they did stop the acute fear.

“Yep. Xanax. I know you don’t like them much but they seem to help.” 

Matt sighed. They weren’t even his own meds. They were Foggy’s, left over from the time he’d thought Matt was dead and had been having nightmares. 

“Okay,” Matt finally agreed. “But you’ll stay?”

“Of course,” Foggy reassured him. 

He felt one of Foggy’s hands move away from his stomach as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small plastic bag. He placed it in front of himself and Matt in order to use both hands but still continue holding him.

After removing one of the pills, he held it to Matt’s mouth.

“Open up.”

Matt reluctantly opened his mouth, letting Foggy place the pill on his tongue. He could smell something else nearby. Not just medicine. Something minty?

Foggy reached for the glass of water on Matt’s nightstand and carefully held it to Matt’s lips.

“Take a few sips.”

Matt reached for the glass himself, but his hand began to shake. Foggy held strong to it, ensuring that it didn’t spill. Matt managed to get down half of it, the water somewhat soothing the burning in his chest and stomach.

“You should take these, too,” Foggy told him, removing two more items from the bag. “Nothing big, just some Tums to help your stomach feel better.” He once again held them to Matt’s mouth, waiting for the man to accept them. 

Matt frowned but allowed it, chewing them thoroughly. He finished off the water after that, trying to wash everything down.

He heard the glass touch the wood of his nightstand as Foggy put it back down. Foggy’s hands immediately returned to where they were on his body.

“It’ll take a few minutes to kick in,” Foggy reminded him. “We’ll just sit like this for now.” He resumed rubbing Matt’s stomach, moving his hand up at times to rub Matt’s upper chest. 

The motions continued to help. Or maybe it was the medication. Or a combination of both. Matt wasn’t entirely sure, but soon enough he felt his body begin to relax. The thoughts that had frightened him just a few moments prior began to slip away and he slumped forward a bit. Feeling this, Foggy stopped rubbing him but continued to hold him in a hug.

00

Half an hour later, Matt felt tired again. Foggy must have sensed it too, because he started to move away, only stopped when he felt Matt’s hand grip his arm.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, “Just going to help you lie down. I’ll stay with you like I promised.”

Matt didn’t like it, but he knew that soon enough he’d be falling asleep, and pinning Foggy to the bed didn’t seem particularly fair.  
He allowed Foggy to guide him back towards his pillows and to pull the blankets up, feeling somewhat better when he felt the mattress dip beside him as Foggy got into bed as well. Without thinking, he rolled over towards his friend.

“Want a snuggle?” Foggy asked, a smile in his voice.

“Mhmm,” Matt answered, his eyes heavy. 

Foggy helped him, pulling him so that Matt was lying on top of him, his head resting on Foggy’s chest. He wrapped an arm around Matt, trying to make sure he continued to feel protected, and began to card his fingers through Matt’s hair.

“Should be protecting _you_ ,” Matt whispered, as he snuggled as close as possible to his friend. “Not the other way around.”

“We protect each other, buddy. I’ll be here when you need me, and you’ll be there when I need you.”

“Hmph,” Matt sighed. He was supposed to be the strong one, not Foggy, but here he was, clinging to the man like his life depended on it. He wondered how he’d fallen so far. It seemed like this was happening more and more often.

“It doesn’t make you any less strong,” Foggy said, and Matt wondered if Foggy could read his mind. “Everyone needs help sometimes. After what you went through, it’s completely normal. I still say you should see someone about it though.”

“Have you,” Matt replied. 

Foggy chuckled.

“Yes, you do. I meant someone professional.”

Matt slowly shook his head ‘no’. He wasn’t ready for that. Not by a long shot.

Then another thought occurred to him: what if Foggy was mentioning this because he wanted to leave?

“You won’t go, right?” Matt asked, all too aware of how pathetic it sounded, especially now that he wasn’t in the midst of having what felt like a heart attack.

“You know I won’t.”

Foggy’s heart beat steadily. He was telling the truth.

“You’ll be tired,” Matt said, apologetically. “I made you tired.”

“I’ll live. I’d rather be here with you and be tired at work then to know you were alone for this.”

Matt didn’t respond. He was too sleepy. Foggy was so warm, and soft, and the way Foggy touched his hair was so relaxing. 

“Go to sleep, Matty. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Matt felt Foggy’s hand move from his hair to his back as Foggy began to rub him there, and he closed his eyes to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone likes this I might consider writing more of it.


End file.
